


There's No Rest Here

by lionessvalenti



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Breaking the Bed, Getting Together, M/M, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Overhearing Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 10:52:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14616872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lionessvalenti/pseuds/lionessvalenti
Summary: The walls of the apartment are thin, and Steve can hear Bucky masturbating.





	There's No Rest Here

The apartment was small. They could have stayed at the Avengers tower, but what Bucky needed was quiet and privacy. That was why Steve brought him to an apartment in Brooklyn, to their old neighborhood. It was a small two bedroom, the kitchen and living room all one larger room, with a shower (no tub) in the bathroom. And that was how Steve could hear Bucky jerking off through the thin walls.

Steve didn't think it was jerking off at first. He thought it was nightmares. The small whimpers, the gasping, it could have been nightmares. That was why Steve went in there the first time. He never would have invaded Bucky's privacy if he'd known.

What he saw wasn't a man asleep in terror. Bucky was naked, the sheets tangled around his ankles, and his back arched as he stroked the length of his cock, his flesh hand concentrating at the head. His metal arm was twisted at an angle, glinting in the dim light, and as Steve followed the line of it, he saw two of Bucky's fingers were pressed into his ass.

Steve knew he should have turned around and walked away the moment he realized Bucky wasn't having a nightmare -- wasn't even _asleep_ \-- but his feet stayed firmly planted on the floor, staring at his masturbating best friend. His own cock began to harden, arousal pooling hot in Steve's stomach. He didn't want to stand there, and he didn't want to walk away. What he wanted was to walk into that room and take Bucky's dick in his mouth and suck him to completion.

It was that thought that broke the spell, and Steve tore himself away. He stalked back into his own room, though he could still hear Bucky's moans through the walls. He was sure, as he stretched out in his own bed, he could hear Bucky coming. It had to be.

Sanctimonious, Steve didn't touch himself. He shouldn't have seen that, and he certainly shouldn't have been aroused by it. He had no right getting pleasure from it. Despite his cock throbbing insistently, almost painfully, begging for his attention, Steve closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"You look like shit," Bucky said the next morning. He was freshly showered, his hair still damp around his shoulders. He was cutting up strawberries, the fruit delicately held between two metal fingers, and as Steve watched him, he couldn't release the image of those fingers up Bucky's asshole. He wondered briefly, pushing the thought away as quickly as he could, what it was feel like to have them pressed into him.

"Didn't sleep," Steve mumbled, as he looked away. Coffee. He needed coffee.

"I slept great," Bucky replied with a smile thrown in Steve's direction. "Did you get Sam's text about going to the gym later?"

"I haven't checked my phone," Steve said, cupping the hot mug between his hands. The gym meant physical training. Sparring. God, he couldn't be that close to Bucky, not sweaty, intense Bucky, not when every inch of Steve's skin felt sensitive and exposed. "You go on without me. Between you and Sam, I'd probably just embarrass myself today."

"Suit yourself," Bucky said. He tossed the sliced up strawberries into a steaming bowl. "At least eat this oatmeal I made. Did you know you can just add hot water to this and it's cooked?"

Steve laughed, if only to cover his desire to kiss Bucky that very moment.

* * *

It happened again that night, but this time Steve was prepared for it. When he heard the gasping moans coming from Bucky's room, he stayed put, but his imagination went into overdrive.

Bucky pushing the unyielding metal of his fingers inside himself, precome dripping tantalizingly down the side of his cock before he took hold of it. It was so easy to imagine Bucky spread open for him, urging Steve on, _wanting_ Steve inside of him.

No, stop, Steve thought, his dick already fully erect. Bucky had already been through so much trauma. He deserved privacy, especially in his own home. The fact that he was masturbating in the first place was a good sign, Steve hoped, and Bucky didn't need anyone listening to him do it, or fantasizing about it.

But Steve knew he couldn't manage another sleepless night. He shimmied out of his sweatpants and grasped his cock. He let out a satisfied groan under his own touch, before clamping his mouth closed. If he could hear Bucky, that most certainly meant Bucky could hear him.

He tried to jerk himself as quickly and as quietly as possible, urged on by the noises coming from Bucky's room. Steve reached up with his other hand and grabbed ahold of the wooden headboard, anchoring himself as he stroked faster. Through the wall, he could hear Bucky's moans getting closer together, and slightly higher pitched. Fuck, Bucky was coming, and Steve knew it, he knew it with every part of himself.

It didn't take Steve long, not after holding himself back all day, not after listening to Bucky's orgasm, to come moments later. Every part of him tensed, and as he came, come spurting across his chest, he snapped the headboard into two pieces. The corner of it he'd been holding onto was now a broken chunk in his hand.

"Shit!" He bit his lip immediately, knowing there was no way Bucky could have missed _that_ , and listened for any sounds of Bucky getting out of bed to investigate. What would he find if he did? Steve naked and flushed, holding onto a piece of his broken bed and covered in come.

His cock twitched at the notion, and Steve groaned, but this time in embarrassment. This was getting out of control, and it had only been happening for twenty-four hours. Space monsters were easier to deal with than this.

The next morning, after Steve had jerked off in the shower before even seeing Bucky, Steve walked into the kitchen for coffee. He'd slept better than the night before, but he felt no more rested, especially not when he saw that Bucky was shirtless, his sleep pants riding low on his hips.

"Morning," Steve said, walking around Bucky to get to the coffee maker. He tried not to look, but pointedly _not_ looking at Bucky was going to be more obvious than not looking at him at all.

"What the hell happened to your bed?" Bucky asked by way of greeting. He had a glass of orange juice in his hand, taking a sip of it as he turned toward Steve.

"What?" Steve hadn't thought to close his door. Why didn't he think to close his door?

"You didn't notice that your headboard is broken?"

"Uh, no, I uh..." Steve took a drink of coffee, the hot liquid burning his tongue in the process. He couldn't very well tell Bucky, or _anyone_ , that he broke his bed from masturbating too hard. "Shouldn't have gotten it from Ikea," he said finally, grinning sheepishly.

Bucky gave him a strange look. Maybe he didn't know what Ikea was, or he realized that didn't answer the question of what actually happened. But he didn't say anything. He accepted Steve's reply and changed the subject.

* * *

This went on for more than two weeks, and Steve had never been more relieved for a mission. Bucky still wasn't mission-ready, so he stayed home while Steve went to Vietnam with Natasha and Sam. Usually missions meant running on little sleep, but Steve was sure he'd sleep better a world away from Bucky's moans.

This was work, and Steve threw himself into it. He couldn't constantly think about Bucky (or Bucky's body, and especially not Bucky's cock), and having something decided for him to think about instead was a relief. By the end of the mission, a three week long affair, Steve almost felt normal again.

Steve opened the door to the apartment and looked around. The main room was empty. "Buck?" he called, wondering if Bucky was out somewhere. There wasn't anything wrong with that. Bucky wasn't a prisoner. He could come and go as he pleased. That didn't stop the disappointment from welling up in Steve's chest.

He walked down the short hall that lead to the small bedrooms, and when he peered into his own room, he saw the headboard had been replaced. The wood was gone, and now it was an industrial looking thing made of iron pipes.

The bathroom door opened and Bucky stepped out. He grinned when he saw Steve and pulled him into a hug. "You're home."

"Yeah," Steve said absently as he wrapped his arms around Bucky's body. God, he missed this. The feel of Bucky pressed against him, the smell of him, it was so familiar and good. The hug didn't linger, but Steve kept an arm around Bucky's waist as he turned toward the bedroom. "You got me a new headboard?"

"Clint knows a guy who makes them," Bucky replied. "This one should be harder to break."

"Well... thank you," Steve said. He released Bucky and stepped into his bedroom, setting his duffle bag down on the floor.

Bucky followed him into the room. "How'd the mission go?"

Steve glanced over and saw Bucky sitting comfortably on the bed like he belonged there. He did belong there. That was exactly where Steve wanted him to be. Turning away, busying himself with unpacking, Steve said, "It was fine. There was a lot more sneaking around and a lot less punching people in the face than usual."

"I kind of miss it," Bucky said, and there was something in his voice that made Steve turn to him. Bucky smiled when Steve looked at him. "The sneaking around. I'm a good spy."

Steve smiled too. "We'll have you field ready in no time, soldier."

"I hope so. It was too quiet here without you." Bucky traced a finger over a crease in one of of Steve's pillowcases. "I slept in here a couple of nights. It felt less... lonely. You don't mind, do you?"

Heat rushed to Steve's face, and to his cock. His mind raced as it flipped through all the possibilities. Even Bucky just asleep in his bed was good, but the idea that Bucky had jerked off in Steve's bed, maybe even thinking of him as he did it, that was too much.

"No," Steve croaked. "I don't mind."

A smile spread across Bucky's face, and it took Steve a moment to realize Bucky's gaze was set firmly at the front of Steve's pants, watching the bulge grow. In that moment, Steve knew exactly what was happening.

"You asshole," Steve said, and that caught Bucky's attention, his gaze jerking up to Steve's face. "You've been doing this on purpose."

Bucky laughed. "Only when I realized you could hear me, and you were getting off on it." He leaned forward and grabbed ahold of the waistband of Steve's pants with his metal hand. He yanked hard, pulling Steve onto the bed with him.

Steve stumbled, falling far less gratefully than Captain America had any right to, but he recovered quickly, sitting up, leaning against Bucky. "So you..."

"Didn't think you'd be gone so long. You were _this close_ to breaking," Bucky said, holding his finger and thumb an inch apart from each other. "And I wasn't that far behind you. I kept expecting you to storm in my room and take me. A few times, listening to you, it was everything I could do to stay put. I wanted you so fucking bad."

"Why didn't you just say something?" Steve asked, aware of how desperate he sounded. And maybe a little annoyed. He couldn't be toyed by too many people, and Bucky had to know he was one of the few who could do it.

Bucky shrugged. "Why didn't you say something?"

"You'd been traumatized! I didn't want to take advantage of you! I..." Steve trailed off as he watched Bucky smiling at him. "I should have said something."

"I should have realized you were going to high road it 'till the bitter end," Bucky replied. "You're too good, Rogers."

"I can't believe this," Steve said. He reached up and tucked his hand into Bucky's hair cupping the back of his head. He leaned in and shoved his mouth to Bucky's. Bucky moaned that low, aroused moan that had been driving Steve crazy for weeks, that Steve was sure he'd been hearing in his dreams. Bucky's arms snaked around Steve's body and pulled him close, until they were flushed against each other. Steve pushed him down onto the bed, rubbing himself against Bucky's thigh.

Bucky turned his head slightly and grinned up at Steve. "You aren't going to take me to dinner first?"

"I'm going to make you pay first," Steve said, his voice thick with arousal. "Dinner later."

Bucky ran a finger over Steve's lower lip. "Want to see how sturdy the headboard is?"

Steve did. He really did


End file.
